


goddess of protectors

by herecomesbucktofuckshitup



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blood and Injury, General Sara Steel Warnings, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Violence Against Animals, Other, People Being Nice To Juno Steel, Substance Abuse, because he deserves love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 14:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19947685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herecomesbucktofuckshitup/pseuds/herecomesbucktofuckshitup
Summary: or: five times Juno Steel rested his head in someone else's lap (plus one time it was the other way around)





	goddess of protectors

**Author's Note:**

> did i listen to this podcast in its entirety in two days and then immediately write this? maybe...

**_one: Benzaiten Steel_ **

“Ugh, god. It feels like my concussion has a concussion.” Juno groans. He is twelve years old, he lives in Oldtown, and he has the best twin brother in the world. 

Ben helps him down the street. “Yeah, well. That’s what you get, going out and getting into fights when you were already hurt. What were you thinking? That’s the problem with you, Juno. You’re always picking fights you know you can’t win.” 

“Aw, Ben, you should have seen them. They were using that poor defenseless rabbit as target practice.” Juno mutters. 

Benten grumbles something about _you know that’s not what I meant,_ but instead says, “There was nothing defenseless about that rabbit and you know it. Anyway, next time you decide to get into a fist fight with six other kids, will you at least call me? Or Sasha, or even Mick. You know Mick loves a good beat-down.”

Juno chuckles, but it quickly turns into a pained gasp. “Shit. Ribs.” He doubles over, but that just makes the throbbing in his head worse, and suddenly, he’s staring up at the Martian sky and the weak shimmering of the dome. 

“Benzaiten?” 

“Yes, Juno?”

“Why are we on the ground?” They’re in an alley, but it's one of the nice ones, where the drug dealers have their guns set to stun. Benten sits with his back against a wall, and Juno’s head in his lap. 

Benten hums, like he’s considering the answer. “Well, you see, I have this idiot twin-“

“Oh, come off it, Ben.” Juno wants to roll his eyes, but even that hurts too much. “God, your legs are boney.” 

“Hey man, these are _dancer’s_ legs. Everyone says so.” Ben says. “Besides, I’m not the one who fainted.” 

Juno feels his face heat. “I didn’t faint! I just… blacked out a little is all.”

Ben doesn’t say anything for a long while, just scowls. It's an expression that would look far more at home on Juno’s face than his own. Benzaiten’s face was made for smiling. “Why do you always make her so angry?”

“I don’t mean to. She just-"

“Yes you do.” Benten says. “Whenever I do something wrong. It's...it's… it's infuriating, is what it is.”

Juno cracks a grin. “Woah, that’s kind of a big word for you, pretty boy.”

“Shut your face. You know what I mean.” Ben looks genuinely upset. “Every time she gets even a little angry with me, you have to go and piss her off like that. You talk back, or-or draw too much attention to yourself. You don’t have to take the big hit every time, Juno.”

 _I do._ Is what Juno thinks in that moment. It's all he can do not to say it out loud, to tell Benzaiten everything he’s feeling. _I deserve it._

“I know you think you’re Big Tough Super Steel, but I’m your big brother, okay? You can let me take a hit every now and then.” Ben says. 

Juno squints up at him. “What? No you’re not. I was born first.” It’s true. Sara never told them, said she couldn’t remember, but Juno had dug up their birth certificates just to prove it. It was all public record. All he had to do was to sneak into Oldtown city hall, and that was easier than anything. 

“Yeah, but look at you.” Ben says with a shrug. “You’re tiny. Soon even little Annie Wire will be taller than you.”

Juno scowls and Ben smiles and all is right with the world. “Shut up! We’re identical, you dick! I-I’ll catch up to you soon, and then you’ll regret this, I swear to god, Benten.” 

He tries to grab at Ben, but he’s already been injured twice over. Ben slaps his hands away easy. “Soon they’ll be calling you Shrimpy Steel.”

“I hate you so much.” Juno growls. 

Ben just smiles down at him, a smile brighter than the red sun, the ‘Galaxy’s Best Smile’, if the voting populous of their third grade class was to be believed. “Love you too, Juno.” 

  


**_two: RITA_ **

The last thing Sasha Wire says to Juno Steel before she leaves his life and then Mars altogether is: “You know, if Benten we’re still alive, he would kick your ass for doing this to yourself.”

Juno thinks he said something about Annie in return. It was probably about Annie, anyway. He doesn’t know what else he could have said to Sasha that would have made her slap him so hard. She had left a handprint on his face with four perfect nail marks high on his cheekbone. 

He’s like that sometimes, when he’s junked-up. Saying things just to hurt people, to push them away. 

Still, there were some people he just can’t seem to get rid of. Mick was too stupid and Rita was too loyal. No matter what awful shit Juno says to them, they always come back. 

“Idiots,” Juno mutters, voice muffled into his pillow. 

Salmon-smelling fingers card through his hair. “What was that, boss?” 

Right. The pillow he’s laying on is Rita’s thigh, cushioned with what felt like 14 layers of skirts.

They’re laying on the floor. No, the ground. They’re on the ground outside of a house. The Kanagawa house, if Juno’s to judge, based off of the ridiculous earth-green garden and the huge security detail. Also, either Cassandra or Cecil is a few yards over, throwing up into a shrubbery. Probably Cass. That girl knows how to party. 

“What’re you doin’ here, Rita?” Juno asks. 

Rita lets out such a dramatic sigh that Juno thinks she might deflate. “You called me, Mistah Steel, remember? Seriously, boss, it's like you’re trying to kill me. You drop off the face of the planet a few days ago like a ghost or somethin’, makin’ all of your friends worry, and then you call me up outta nowhere? Oh, and I was right in the middle of one’a my streams, Mistah Steel. Sure, I’d seen it before, but you _know_ The Hounds Of Hel Go To 7368 Haldancohn is like, my third favorite movie about killer dogs going to the asteroid belt. But _now_ I gotta come all the way here, cause you’re on another one’a your blender things-“

“It's _bender_ , Rita. I’m on a bender.” Juno says, grunting as he tries to sit up. The galaxy spins around him so violently that he collapses back onto Rita’s lap. 

“Well.” Rita sounds smug. It makes Juno a little nauseous. “At least you're admittin’ it to yourself. I hear that’s the first step.”

“Ritaaaa.” Juno groans, burying his face in her skirts. They’re soft. “Just. Take me home.” 

He thinks she might be braiding his hair. “I’d love to do that, Mistah Steel, I really would. But unless you can figure out how’ta stand on your own two feet sometime soon, I’m pretty sure we’re stuck here.”

“Huh?” Juno asks. He thinks he’s falling asleep. Or passing out. Either way. “Can’t you just,” He flops his arms around in an approximation of carrying. 

“Boss, I abso _lutely_ cannot carry you.” Rita says. “I tried to pick up Franny’s cute wittle puppy dog once and he was just too heavy. I had to bend down just to kiss his sweet wittle nosey-wosey. I hate to break this to you, Mistah Steel, but you are much bigger than a puppy dog.” 

That makes sense. “So... what now?” 

“Well, I figure we just sit here for a while.” Rita says. “You can think about your life choices and sober up while my legs go numb.” She produces a handheld monitor for somewhere, and Juno can hear barking. He falls asleep before the hounds reach the asteroid belt, with Rita’s hand gently carding through his hair. 

**_three: Rex Glass_ **

“Are you alright, Juno? It sounded like you were talking to yourself.” Glass settles on the floor next to Juno, first aid kit tucked under his arm.

Juno grimaces. The damn _doors_. Why didn’t he see it before? He can’t trust this man, he knows he can’t. But some deep, dark, buried part of him desperately wants to. Juno hates it. “Just calling my secretary. Making sure my will’s in order.” 

“You won’t be dying here today, detective.” Rex says on a laugh. “Dr. Glass has everything he needs for a successful operation.” As he talks, his long, deft fingers wrap around Juno’s wrist, tearing at the sleeve of his coat. “Stitches, disinfectant, hacksaw, bionic arm.” Juno wouldn’t be surprised if Glass really did have all of those things in those endless pockets of his. 

“Not funny.” Juno says, but he’s smiling, just a little. 

Glass is already cleaning the wound. His touches are quick, professional. It's probably only Juno’s hopeful imagination that makes them linger every time they brush against his skin. “What’s the matter, Juno? You’ve never played doctor before?”

That smirk, those pointed teeth… they did things to Juno. “I’m not really in the mood for games, Rex.”

“Testy, testy.” Glass pushes Juno until he’s lying with his head his lap. It's totally unnecessary, but it shields Juno’s view from what Rex is doing to his arm. He must have picked up on Juno’s aversion to blood. It's… comforting. Shut up. “So, what do you make of this mystery?” 

Juno has to swallow before he can find his voice. He starts going through the facts of the case, trying not to think about his personal feelings for Cassandra, and trying even harder not to think about his feelings about Glass. “Yeah, it all looks pretty open and shut, doesn’t it?”

“You don’t sound satisfied with that answer.” Shit, that disinfectant stings. Juno winces, turning his face into Rex’s leg. If the man notices, he doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m not.” Juno sighs. “There’s something else going on here.” Several somethings, if the complicated feeling in his stomach was to be believed, and the complicated feelings in his stomach were almost never wrong. “At least one something.” He adds, trying to gauge Rex’s expression, but the man just seems focused, with just a touch of worry around his sunglasses. Worry, not over his cover being blown, but over Juno. “Dammit, I just gotta figure it out."

He starts to sit up, but Glass gently pushes him back down. “Don’t exert yourself. We still have time.” The hand on his shoulder has no right to be so damn reassuring. “Juno… about your brother.”

 _“Don’t._ ” The word is more of a growl than anything, and he can feel his whole body go tense, rigid. Rex pauses in his stitches, carefully not touching Juno at all, besides the place where Juno’s face met his thigh. 

He sees Glass lick his lips, the nervous gesture making his sharp little teeth peek out. “I apologize if I pried, I didn’t realize that the topic would be so… personal.” 

“Look. Rex.” Dammit, he just wants those hands back on him. He takes a deep breath. “Remember how I said my mother never killed me?”

He can see realization on Rex’s face above him, can feel it in the twitch of the muscle underneath him. “Yes.”

“Well my brother wasn’t so lucky.” 

Rex Glass looks genuinely sorrowful, even beneath those Dark Matters sunglasses that Juno's pretty sure are engineered to prevent emotion, he seems nearly grief-stricken on Juno’s behalf. It makes Juno wonder who he had lost. “I’m… so sorry, Juno.” And he means it, too. That’s what kills him about this whole thing. He’s sure that Rex Glass has been lying to him since they met, but he _knows_ that he isn’t lying about this. It makes Juno feels sick. 

“I’m not telling you so you’ll be sorry.” Juno says, because he can’t handle it anymore. He wants Glass to go back to lying. He can’t bare to see the naked truth on that mask of a face. “I’m telling you that so you won’t ask me any more goddamn questions about it. Just. Drop it, alright? It’s _done._ It’s over.” 

“Of course.” Rex says quietly. “If that’s what you’d like.” His hands settle on Juno’s arm again. “Now hold still, the stitches come next.” 

Juno grits his teeth against the feeling of the sewing machine, the sick tugging of thread through his skin. Rex’s hands on him are steady, and Juno digs the fingers of his functioning hand into Glass’s leg. Rex shushes him, running his free hand over his hair, like a mother gently soothing a sick child. Well, not _his_ mother, but someone’s mother. “Shh, almost there, and… done!”

“Wow. That was… fast.” Juno says, blinking up at Rex. 

He gets a smirk in return. “I’m a man of many talents, Juno.” 

“I… bet you are.” Juno says, and that smirk grows into something like a smile. “Hey, uh, Rex?”

“Juno.” That gentle hand is still in his hair. He can feel clever fingers twining curls around themselves. Juno wonders if Glass even realizes what he’s doing.

“Where are you going?” It isn’t even what he means to ask, not really. He wants info, wants to know what he was up against. The best interrogations happen when the perp doesn’t know they’re happening. But instead he’s asking ‘where are you going’, like some love-sick kid. “Y’know, after this case, I mean.”

“Oh, Dark Matters never keeps me in one place for very long. Once the curse on Grim’s Mask has been disproven, I’ll be off on the interstellar breeze; after some other imaginary spirit, on some other planet. Why do you ask?” Juno can’t answer that, but Rex can. “It wasn’t an… invitation, was it, Detective?”

“Don’t read too much into it.” Juno sits up, ignoring how the hall spins. Glass unwinds his fingers from Juno’s hair, and then it was like they were never touching at all. 

Until Rex bumps his shoulder against Juno’s, that is. “Oh, don’t get cranky, Detective. We still have this case, after all. Who know what we’ll _tangle_ ourselves up in before the day is done.” Juno wonders if that’s a jab at his hair. He knows he doesn’t use enough conditioner, and he _should_ brush it with a wide-tooth comb, but who has the time? 

Glass climbs to his feet, and those long legs seem to go on for miles. “Uh, yeah. I s-still have a few leads to follow.” He accepts the hand Rex offers him. 

Later, after... after Everything. After Min Kanagawa became a media empress, after Cassandra Kanagawa was shipped off to Hoosegow, after the thief in the night had disappeared like... well. 

After Peter Fucking Nureyev. 

Juno keeps the windows open, trying to get rid of that goddamn _smell_. It's cold outside, cold enough that Juno climbs into bed with his coat on, shivering underneath piles of blankets. If it were just the cold, or just the smell, he might have been able to sleep. But every time he drifts off, he feels a phantom warmth underneath his cheek, phantom fingers twisting in his hair. 

He wakes up nearly four times with a name on his lips before he gives up on sleep entirely.

  


**_four: Mick Mercury_ **

Juno Steel didn’t need a babysitter, and he especially didn’t need that babysitter to be Mick Goddamn Mercury, King of the Highway, Biggest Screw-Up on Mars. 

After Sasha’s nightmare of a job interview, Juno takes the Pour and Floor’s motto to heart. Mick is keeping up drink-for-drink, but he doesn’t seem half as bad off as Juno. 

“Woah, buddy.” Mick catches him around the waist before Juno can actually hit the floor. “C’mon, JJ. Lemme take you home.” 

“Okay.” Juno sighs, wiggling in Mick’s grasp. “But I’ll have you know, Mercury, Imma classy lady.” He elbows Mick in the gut. Mick drops him with a grunt, and Juno winds up face-down on the floor. It's sticky. “Oh, yuck.” 

Big hands grab him by the back of his coat, pulling him back up. “Jeez, Jay. You’re a real mess.”

“You are.” Juno slurs, leaning heavily against Mick’s side. “Drank same as me.” 

Mick is uncharacteristically silent, steering them both out of the bar. “Guess I did.” 

“Mmphf.” Juno says. He’s pretty sure his feet aren’t touching the ground. “You carryin’ me?”

“I mean, it's not like it’s hard, Shrimpy Steel.” Mick says. 

Juno pouts. “Not shrimpy.” He might be short, but he’s by no means the skinny little kid he used to be. 

“Aw, you always will be to me, buddy.” Mick says. “Man, remember how much fun we used to have?”

Juno thinks he might be getting motion sick. “No.” 

“You just remember it wrong. It was like-like an adventure every day. We were always getting into trouble. It was the four of us against the world.” Mick’s voice sounds suspiciously thick. Juno wonders if he isn’t a little drunk after all. “I think I’ve just been lonely, Jay. I mean, my dad’s still around, but the rest of you guys… you all keep moving on.”

“Not alla us.” Juno says sourly. “Summa us can’t move on. Put me down.”

Mick keeps going. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I _can’t_ move on. Maybe I’m just stuck.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout you, Mercury.” Juno tell him. “Put me down. Gonna puke.” 

Mick carefully sets him down by a vandalized statue. Juno falls to his knees, vomiting for a few long minutes. Mick talks through the entire thing. “What, is it like, one of those meteor things? Not meteor… damn what was it? The thing that’s like other things. You know. Talking about how we’re stuck in the past? Like, you and Sasha don’t live in Oldtown anymore, but like, metorically you do. Since it shaped you as people. Like, you became a cop for a minute and Sasha became a secret agent for a long time and you both solve crime and help people, but maybe it's because of the things we did as kids? Like the action and adventure of our youths, right? Maybe that’s what _I’m_ missing.”

Juno wipes his mouth and sits back on his heels. He squints at Mick. “What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

Mick just shrugs. “You said some of us can’t move on.” 

“I just meant-” Juno sighs. “Forget it, Mick.” 

“Oh!” Mick’s eyes light up with sudden understanding. “You meant-”

“Drop it, Mick!” Juno snaps, then leans over and heaves some more. Nothing comes up. “Don’t wanna talk about it.” He groans, then collapses backwards, sprawling across the sand and across Mick. 

“Did you get it all up?” Mick asks. Juno makes a face at him. Mick looks unperturbed. “Just asking.”

Mick laid on the ground and Juno laid on Mick and they stared at the sky, neither of them saying anything for a long while. Finally, Mick clears his throat, and Juno braces for whatever stupid shit he’s about to say. “I miss him, man.” 

Juno opens his eyes. “Me too.” He whispers. “All the time.” 

Mick’s drapes his arm across Juno’s chest and sighed deeply. The two of them fall asleep like that, drunkenly holding each other in the middle of a public park, trying to forget their grief. 

That is, until some wiseass kid tries to pickpocket them in the middle of the night. Juno waves his gun in the kid’s face, but the kid calls for their friends, and then Mick and Juno are running away from a gang, both of them hung over and miserable. 

Juno looks at Mick Mercury’s wide smile and knows exactly what he’s thinking. Just like old times, Steel. Just like old times. 

**_five: Peter Nureyev_ **

Juno can’t tell how long they’ve been in Miasma’s prison. Days, probably. Weeks, maybe. The routine is actually getting kind of boring. Sure, they’re being held captive by a mad scientist in an ancient underground crypt and being tortured on a regular basis, but Juno wished that she would switch it up a little. 

Two burly assistants throw him into the cell, face bloody. Juno barely has it in him to make a smart-ass remark. Barely. “Hey, now. That’s no way to treat a guest.” 

As usual, the only reply is the door shutting. Juno coughs, spitting blood onto the ground. “Fancy meeting you here, Detective.” 

Nureyev is lounging across from the door like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he isn’t actively bleeding, like he isn’t just as bruised and battered as Juno, if not more. Probably more. Juno's fault.

“Hey, good-lookin.” Juno says with a grin, allowing himself to live in that imaginary world for a while. A world were they were just a thief and his detective. Not even that. Just-just a fella and a lady. 

Peter quirks an eyebrow, lips pursing in tired amusement. “I would get up to greet you, but I’m afraid I’m far too concussed to stand.” 

“Ah, that’s okay.” Juno says. “I’ll come to you.” He crawls over to Nureyev, who lifts up an arm. 

Juno tucks himself underneath it, resting heavily against Nureyev’s side. He’s too tired to put up his hardened, macho detective act right now. All he wants is for Nureyev to hold him, and hold him Nureyev does. Juno sighs comfortably, his heavy head lolling onto Nureyev’s shoulder. “Are you alright, Juno?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. I’m great.” Juno says. Nureyev pulls his sleeve over his hand, gently running it over Juno’s face, wiping away the blood. It felt nice. Juno could feel his eyes slipping shut. 

“Stay awake, darling.” Nureyev whispers. He sets two fingers underneath Juno’s chin, tipping it up. “Open your eyes for me.” 

Juno does as he says. Peter frowns. “What, you’re not enchanted by my the beautiful deep brown eyes?”

“Of course I am.” Nureyev says, rubbing his thumb over Juno’s eyebrow. Juno shivers. “It’s just that the bleeding is worse than before.” 

“It certainly stings like a sonofabitch.” Juno says. He peers up at Nureyev through his eyelashes in a way he’s been told by multiple partners is unfair. “Kiss it better?” 

Peter Nureyev’s smile, his real smile, is beautiful. “Well, how could I say no to that?” 

Lips like velvet. That’s what Juno had thought when he had first kissed Rex Glass, moments before arresting him. Now, all Juno can think is that Peter Nureyev is a raging inferno, and Juno _needs_ him, would happily burn just spend another second in his arms. 

They don’t get any further than a few kisses and a few wandering hands. They’re both too tired, in too much pain. Juno eventually breaks it off when he’s sure he can hear Nureyev’s thoughts, a litany of _Juno oh Juno I’ll steal a keycard while they’re distracted so beautiful with a beard wonder what he saw hope he doesn’t know and then I’ll disguise myself as an assistant and-_

Juno curls around Nureyev, clinging like a mutant Neptunian limpet. Nureyev pokes and prods and pushes him until he’s resting with his head in his lap. It can’t be comfortable for him, but as soon as he gets those quick fingers in Juno’s hair, it's like all the pain hammering against his head disappears. 

“Oh god, how are you doing that?” Juno moans. 

He feels Nureyev’s chuckle more than he hears it. “I told you, Detective. I’m a man of many talents. I picked this one up on the Outer Rim. It's a technique practiced by nomadic healers who believe that all of human sensation can be narrowed down to the quadrants of the scalp. All mystic nonsense, of course, but they did teach me a little about pressure points.” 

“Hey, did you do this to me while you were stitching me up?” Juno asks. 

Nureyev pauses. “Hm?”

“Back at the Kanagawa’s.” Juno says. “After Cecil punched a bunch of new holes in my arm. You were doing this… mystic hair pulling stuff.” 

“Oh, no. I was just… touching your hair, I suppose. It is very curly, you know.” Nureyev says. 

Juno laughs. “Yeah, Rita buys me a special mousse.” He hopes Rita’s okay. Of course she’ll be okay. He’s always needed her a lot more than she ever needed him. “Tell me a story, Duke.”

“What would you like to hear, Dahlia?” Nureyev asks, a laugh on his voice.

Juno curls his fingers around Nureyev’s pant leg. It looks like the pants used to be expensive, once upon a time. Now they were caked with dust and blood. “Tell me… tell me about where we would have gone. If I had agreed to run away with you.” 

Nureyev’s voice must be exhausted from all of the screaming, but he talks for hours, dragging those once-perfect nails over Juno’s scalp.

Later, much, much later; Juno will remember that he’s a fool for a lot of reasons, but loving Peter Nureyev isn’t one of them.

**_plus: Decebal Brave_ **

“Ah, Doctor Gordon. Surely you’ve met my wife, Pavarti Brave?” Nureyev has that twinkle in his eye that makes Juno unsure whether or not he should punch him or kiss him. He does neither. It would ruin his make up.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” The doctor kisses the back of Juno’s hand. Their lips are so dry that it's all Juno can do to hold back his shudder. 

He catches Rita’s gaze from across the room. She’s still terrible at this whole ‘being stealthy’ thing, but she has Vespa and Buddy on either side of her, making sure no harm comes to her. They were there as Rita’s dates, and it seems like she’s finally stopped giggling about it long enough to hack into the mansion’s security system, because she gives him a huge thumbs up. Buddy smoothly catches her hand before anyone else sees the signal, pulling her onto the dance floor with one hand and pulling Vespa with the other. 

Rita looks like she’s about to pass out with joy. Juno, on the other hand…

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a dance?” The doctor asks. They’re openly leering at him, and it's making his skin crawl. But Peter, as always, is there. 

He slides his hand across Juno’s waist, resting his cheek across his carefully styled hair. “Sorry, but I’m afraid Pavarti’s dance card is quite full. Shall we, my dear?” 

That’s the signal. Jet’s at the back door, in disguise as part of Gordon’s security team. He nods once at Juno, who spins Peter across the dance floor. Peter leans in, his lips brushing against Juno’s ear. “I never would have taken you for such a capable dancer, Detective.” 

“I had a great teacher.” Juno says, eyes sweeping the crowd. “Eight o’ clock.” 

Peter steps impossibly closer. “I see zir. Vespa?”

“On it, Boss.” Vespa’s already winding through the crowd towards the assassin wearing the knock-off THEIA spectrum. Ze had actually cut out zir own eye for it. 

Everything happens kind of fast after that. 

They arrive back at the hotel, all slightly singed. “Okay, that wasn’t a total failure.” Juno sighs. 

“Correction,” Jet says. “It was, in fact, a total failure. We did not achieve any of our objectives.” 

“Yes, thank you for that, Big Guy.” Juno sighs. Rita was holding her monitor to her chest, trying to muffle her loud sobs. Juno sighs, moving over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Rita. We’re alright.”

“No! We’re! Not!” Rita says, taking a gasping breath between each word. “We! Messed! Up! And! It's! All! My! Fault!” 

“No one blames you, Rita.” Buddy says.

“Exactly.” Vespa says. “We blame Mr. and Mrs. Brave over here.” 

Peter isn’t even listening. He’s busy staring at the floorplan and muttering to himself in a language Juno doesn’t recognize. What Juno _does_ recognize, however, the face of a man going over his plan over and over and wondering what went wrong. Juno takes off his eyepatch. It's designer, a midnight blue velvet that matches his dress. “Alright. We’ll regroup in the morning. Right now I think we could all use some sleep. Jet, you’ll look after Rita?”

“Always.” Jet says, then offers his arm to Rita. “Shall we?” 

Rita has to stand on her toes to reach him, but they walk off together. Vespa still looks a little edgy, but Buddy has her by the shoulders and is steering her into the direction of their hotel room. 

That’s everyone squared away and accounted for. Except… “Decebal. C’mon. Bedtime.” 

“You go ahead, my love. I’ll be there momentarily.” Peter doesn’t even look back at him, perfect, painted nails digging into the table. 

“Peter.” Juno says sharply. That gets a look. Juno extends a hand. “C’mon.” 

He looks back at his info board. “I have to-”

“Listen, as the galaxy’s expert over beating myself up over things I can’t control, I am ordering you to take a break.” Juno says. He wiggles his fingers invitingly. “C’mon. Let’s take a bath.”

“I suppose... since you’re so qualified.” Peter takes his hand, a small smile on his face. 

The hotel they’re staying in is ridiculous. The bath draws itself. There are bubbles. And essential oils. Ridiculous. 

Juno dips a washcloth in the water, wiping the makeup off of Peter’s face and then his own. He makes Peter sit in the tub, has him lean back against Juno’s chest, has him tip his head back so Juno can rub shampoo in his hair. By the time the water is draining, every muscle in Peter Nureyev’s ludicrously long body is relaxed. 

Juno drags Peter to bed, pokes and prods and pushes him until he’s resting his head in Juno’s lap. He starts running his fingers over Peter’s head, can see the smile growing on Peter’s face. “Am I doing it right? The mystical pressure point thing?” 

“Absolutely.” Peter takes his spare hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I’m not used to… this.” 

“What, working with a team? It's new for me, too.” Juno says. 

Peter shakes his head. “No, doing-”

“Don’t say “doing good.”” Juno says. He’s had enough talk about people “doing good” to last a lifetime. 

“Doing something that makes me happy.” Peter says. 

Juno frowns. “The jobs?”  
  
“Not the jobs.” Peter tells him. 

“Oh.” Juno says, then smiles. It's almost identical to the ‘Galaxy’s Best Smile’, if the voting populous of his third grade class was to be believed. “Yeah. Me too.” 


End file.
